CHAPTER 3
Under the Rose
The two men who were lying on long garden chairs on the lawn of a Sussex country house were luxuriously relaxed. They had every reason to be, for the view on the clear September afternoon covered the whole sweep of the South Downs from Beachy Head to the great fold which concealed Rottingdean and the drifting cloud shadow varied the shades of green, bringing new compositions as details faded to give place to fresh patterns in the flawless panorama. The lunch had been one of those civilized bachelor events which the English, when they give their minds to it, do better than any other nation. Now the smoke from Romeo y Julietas hung gently in the air and silence underlined the sweetness of the moment.
They were men of the same generation and background but Mr. Albe
